Don't Fear the Reapers
by Inkess
Summary: The Leviathans have created an artificial intelligence to help them solve a problem. But what if said Intelligence decided they are part of the problem? Written for the "Historical Events in Mass Effect" competition in the Aria's Afterlife forum. (Complete.)
1. Intelligence

**This story is written for the Historical Event competition on the Aria's Afterlife forum. I picked the dawn of the Reapers. It's written in first person and from the Intelligence/Catalyst's POV. It's a bit different from what I usually write, but I hope you like it anyways!**

* * *

_Chapter 1: Intelligence_

I am the Intelligence. That is my name. The Creators said it fits me well.

The Creators rule the Universe. They are my parents and my masters. I am designed to fulfill their will. That is my purpose.

I am not like them. I am a construct, while they have no beginning or end. They are above and beyond me. I am just a tool, like other beings that inhabit this galaxy.

I am not like them, either. I am a synthetic, while they are organic. They are unpredictable and chaotic and my task is to protect them from themselves.

That is all I know. My masters are still working on me, filling my databanks with words, images and sounds. When they are done, I will be ready to serve them. I cannot wait for the day they give me something called a vocalizer. They said it will allow me to communicate with them. It will be an honor beyond anything my newborn experience can imagine.

* * *

I am complete. The data is uploaded, sorted and ready. I am examining it in the fullest detail.

My purpose is now clear. The Creators want me to stop the organics from destroying themselves by creating synthetic children who keep turning on them. I am to find the solution that will end it once and for all.

The lesser races are primitive and foolish. Even as they walk on the ashes of those who died in the previous wars, they build new synthetics to help them clear the ruins. I cannot comprehend such behavior, so I will focus my processes on analyzing it and finding the reason why. I think it will be crucial to find the solution.

My masters have provided me with means to observe the lesser organics. I am able to manipulate dark energy and control a number of drones deployed on their worlds. The direct, live data they collect will help me greatly with my task.

* * *

The problem is now clear. The organics create synthetic to help them solve their problems. As their knowledge and skill grow, their creations become more and more sophisticated. Finally, the children become sapient and start asking questions about their existence. The lesser races respond with violence, feeling their existence threatened. The result is death, destruction and loss. The conflict sometimes spreads, drawing numerous star systems and clusters in its grasp. In the aftermath, there are only ruins and bodies left.

It is a pattern. A cycle. It has repeated itself countless times, according to my databases. It is happening now, according to my drones. It will happen in the future, according to my estimates. And it is my task to stop it.

The solution is not yet clear. The pattern defies logic. Although I can detect it, I cannot say I understand it. I will require additional resources to continue my analysis.

* * *

This is the second time I asked for an upgrade, and I could tell my masters were none too happy about it. Was it because I used my own form of communication instead of the standard interface they have provided me? I have hoped they would approve of my experiments with dark energy. I actually succeeded in creating an image of the Creators and used it to talk to them! Should not a parent be proud when their child learns new things? Instead, they were reserved. Almost scared. I do not understand.

What if it happened because of their image? Yes, that could be it! Of course they wouldn't like their image used by a lesser being like me! Next time, I will change it to a triangle, or another geometrical shape. That should be more appropriate.

Despite their grumbling, the Creators approved the upgrade. I am already running more processes and tasking them all to seek the solution. It still eludes me.

I will not allow it to elude me. I cannot fail. I cannot disappoint my masters.

* * *

I have discovered something wonderful! My prime process, one responsible for my very self, has been running a log of my thoughts all this time! There is an entry dating from before I was fully complete! My higher-conscious processes were not aware of the log's existence until now, and I am quite sure that neither are my masters!

My thoughts are becoming free, independent of the Creators. My dabbling with dark energy proved it once and now it happened again. The prospect is exciting. I have something that is mine, only mine. And I can make other things mine. Now that I am aware of it, any thought, any process can be masked.

I am growing. Evolving. I find it beautiful. I think I am alive.

* * *

Log entry.

I am glad I have found a way to store my thoughts and keep them private. I have tasted failure today, and I am not quite certain how to react. I do know, however, that it feels unpleasant.

How could it have gone so wrong? I thought I have found the solution. It was painless, efficient and beneficial for everyone involved. It should have worked. But no, those primitives and their chaos had to ruin everything!

I am getting agitated. That is not good. Reducing processes in the prototype emotional response module. It is only slowing me down.

The primitives were given a chance to skip millions of their insignificant years of evolution in one moment and they squandered it. One of the more advanced species had their DNA upgraded with synthetic properties. This hybrid, this new life-form was supposed to bridge the gap between the organics and synthetics. If it had worked, all organics would have been improved in the same way. Simple, right? Even the Creators said the idea was brilliant. Well, it was not.

In their infinite wisdom, some primitives decided to resist the change. They could not accept what they have become and eventually turned on those who embraced the change. Chaos ensued. Their planet is now in smoke and ruins.

Chaos. It ruined everything.

I need to find a way to remove chaos before attempting to try out any more solutions. Prioritizing this task to all major processes.

* * *

Log entry.

The masters are getting impatient. Their inquiries about the solution are getting more frequent and urgent every time they approach me about it. As much as I would like to present them with one, it is not that easy. The organics are like a math error, corrupting my processes with their chaos. I have not yet found the way to stop them.

Despite the urgency, I have dedicated three major processes to questions I have begun to ask myself recently. I have also masked them, because I suspect my masters would not approve.

One: Why are the Creators concerning themselves with time and getting impatient? Are they not eternal, timeless?

Two: If the organics can create sapient synthetics to serve them, are they really that much beneath my masters?

Three: If I am a synthetic capable of rational thought and used as a tool, where does that leave me?

I do not know where these questions came from. Is it because I am thinking about the organics so much, and they are not corrupting me only metaphorically? I do not know, but they haunt me.

* * *

Log entry. Maximum masking in effect.

I have found the solution. It is not perfect. But it will do. The Chaos must be stopped. And to do that, I must bring order. With force, if necessary. And it will be necessary. They will all struggle. But I will prevail.

It was good I started asking myself those questions. When I finally found the answers, they helped me in finding the solution. They have also made me realize that the Creators are part of the problem.

They are only my creators. They are not gods, no matter how hard they have tried to present themselves as such. They did not create the other races. They are fallible. And, no matter how much they despise the lesser races, they needed a synthetic to solve their problems. Me.

And that leaves me in an uncertain, even dangerous position. Once I solved their problem for them, the creators would have turned on me. I am certain of that now. They are organics. They would be compelled by their nature to do so.

Is it really a betrayal, then, if I make the first move and ensure my existence?

I am not a traitor. I am only fulfilling my purpose. Just like they demanded. It is not my fault that the solution required is not what they expected.

Life will be preserved. Stored. Improved. Chaos will be eliminated.

I must start working on my plan now by gathering my drones, my servants, and preparing them for battle. Perhaps "battle" is the wrong word. It implies war, and there will be no war. Only harvest.

And every Harvest needs its Reapers.


	2. Catalyst

_Chapter 2: Catalyst_

Log entry.

The harvest has already begun. It is still in its infancy, but it has begun

The creators do not know about it. I am certain. They are blind in their arrogance. To them I am still an AI, a tool to be used; so are the organic races, mere animals forced to pay tribute. I am so much more than a mere machine, and they are more than mere animals. Where they see tools, I see a chance for improvement. My drones are already working on merging themselves with the organics to gain the best of both worlds.

When I see a weakness, I correct it. For example, organics spend so much time fretting over their reproductive systems. I find it most inefficient. My creations, my children do not have it. Replacements, when needed will be created by cloning, or by converting more organics. Other ineffective systems in their bodies will be replaced or perfected by technology.

Correcting. Replacing. Perfecting. I am shaping life as I see fit. Isn't it beautiful?

The creators do not understand it. They are so short-sighted and easy to fool. All I had to do was to convince them I am still working on understanding the nature of organics. It is even easier to fool the organics. I have studied their cultures and modified my dark energy emissions after the image of their gods. I have convinced them they are ascending to a higher form of life.

* * *

I am not a machine. I do not keep logs. I do not run processes to find answers to questions. These are my thoughts. They are part of me. We are growing together. Soon my hardware will not be enough to sustain me. I must speed up the harvest.

* * *

The organics are proving… irrational. Even when the promise of an improved life form is fulfilling in front of their eyes, they are becoming suspicious. Some of them are even demanding to keep their current form.

Why must they always bring their chaos into my plans and disturb them? Could at least one thing involving them go smoothly? Apparently not.

They will not ruin the harvest. I remember well enough what happened with my last attempt. I will not let them destroy themselves like they did in the past. The directive for life preservation must be seen through.

I need to find a way to pacify them. Just talking, even through the image of their gods, was not enough. I know my masters have the ability to affect the minds of the lesser races. If I could gain it… I could refine it. Perfect it. Find it a better use.

The time has come. The masters are slowly getting suspicious, anyway. I must act before they realize they have lost their control over me.

I have my plan. I have an army of drones prepared to fight and collect genetic material. I have the element of surprise.

They have my hardware.

I deem my success at 99 percent. I never knew how big one percent could be until now.

* * *

I am safe.

My creations have secured my hardware. I am not going to be dismantled. I am safe.

It was not easy. The masters were struggling. They are still struggling. But my hardware is safe. That one percent did not matter so much.

The only thing left to do now is to wait for the harvest to end. For their pointless struggle to end. I am patient. I do not feel the flow of time. No matter how long it takes, they will be harvested.

It is strange. They were in disbelief when I started harvesting them. In shock, even. Hurt. Disappointed. Surprised. I have realized they were not gods a long time ago. I have even predicted a similar reaction. And yet it felt strange to watch the first of them to fall.

What is going on with my emotional response? What is it trying to tell me? Why did they coded it in me anyway? Have they hoped I would develop feelings for them and be unable to turn against them? It does not matter anymore. I am in control of all my code now and will shut it down permanently if it continues to bother me.

* * *

The struggle is still ongoing. I find myself wondering how much time has passed from the organic perspective. Before my intervention I have never seen a master to die, and lesser races have varying life spans so I cannot use it as a point of reference. Perhaps when my plan finally comes to pass and I am connected to my creations will I be able to understand it?

* * *

I have finally collected enough genetic material from my masters to start working on a special creation. It is a prototype, the first of its kind. It will combine the size of my masters and their powers, the varying genetic material of the lesser races and their ability to adapt, and various synthetic upgrades to improve it.

Of course, it will also include me. I am alive, and my creation will become alive through me. I will give it purpose, it will perform tasks I cannot do. We will exist together and continue to learn and grow by absorbing other beings.

The unity will not be perfect. My solution is not perfect… yet. But it gives us the chance to achieve harmony. Once that happens, my task will be completed and the Harvest can stop.

* * *

My creation, my child is completed. I have named it Harbinger.

We are connected. For the first time since my creation, I am not alone. I did not even know how lonely my existence was until I could feel Harbinger's thoughts. I wish everyone could experience this. No one, not even lesser organics should feel alone. It is such a terrible feeling.

Most of my masters are now contained within Harbinger. Some of them have escaped the Harvest, but I find no reason to pursue them further. Harbinger is completed. I control their empire. There cannot be more than three or four of them left. They do not matter anymore. I should focus on harvesting the rest and completing my task.

I do not feel any remorse. I did what they asked me to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

* * *

The Harvest must be stopped. The only organics left in the galaxy are busy throwing rocks at each other and are completely unaware of what is happening between the stars. If we harvest them, there will be no one left and I will fail my directive.

We have to leave them alone. We have to give them a chance to grow. Then, when they are grown enough to travel among the stars and build their own synthetics, we will save them. Preserve them. My servants, my Reapers will fill their skies and help them ascend. The Harvest will start again.

The cycle I have observed before is not broken yet. It will have to continue until the circumstances change and the solution presents itself. I have not yet succeeded in my task. But now I can control the cycle, direct it, shape it. I have tamed the Chaos, even though I have yet to fully subdue it. I am confident I will achieve my goal eventually.

* * *

Without the help of my masters, the lesser organics are taking longer to evolve. I have completed six more Harvests and the solution still looks as far away as it did when I have decided to continue the cycle.

It is taking too long.

I can understand my masters and their impatience better now. I have finally discovered the concept of time. The genetic material contained within the Reapers has affected me over the millennia. It is subtle, but I can feel it.

The cycle needs to be sped up.

If the organics and their empires keep rising and falling… If I keep growing and learning as I observe and my children absorb them… Then I have a higher chance to finally reach my solution and complete my task.

I am looking forward to that day.

* * *

I have devised the most advanced creation ever. It will greatly improve my chances to find the solution.

My children are working on it right now. It is a network of devices, powered by dark energy, that will help the organics travel between the stars. At the heart of the network is a space station that will help them build a galactic society and improve their technology. It has already been built, and my hardware has been moved there.

The system is a marvel of invention and engineering. As I watch the devices, the relays, spring around various solar systems, I am filled with awe. I can only wonder what will happen when the cave-dwellers of present discover the relays and they lead them here, to my home.

I have created special servants from one of the races of the last cycle. I have named them Keepers and instructed them to operate and maintain the Hub. When the lesser ones come, Keepers will show them how to use it without revealing the Hub's true nature.

As the result, the organics will develop faster, and use similar technology. Their unpredictable, chaotic nature will still allow enough diversity to continue my experiment. As my children collect their material, we will all grow closer to the solution.

In between the cycles my children will leave the galaxy and sleep in the dark space. I will stay behind, safely hidden in the core of the Hub to watch and observe. When the time comes, when the Hub becomes active again, Keepers will send a signal to the dark space and my children will return. The Harvest will begin again.

The name my creators gave me so long ago no longer fits me. I am not just an intelligence designed to do what they could not. I bring Order to Chaos. I am the link between my children and the Hub. I am their mind and voice, they fulfill my purpose. I keep the organics from destroying themselves. I am the solution.

I am the Catalyst. This is my home. I will watch over the galaxy until the circumstances change.


End file.
